Scars Hurt Only Once
by These-Scars-Will-Never-Fade
Summary: She's broken. Anyone can see that... But they just don't care.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first time writing a story...**

**I own nothing.**

**Trigger warnings: Self harm, drug abuse, potential suicide attempt, physical and sexual abuse, intense bullying.**

**Not for the faint hearted.**

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"Get your worthless ass up right now, you piece of shit!" Papi shouted maliciously into my barely awoken ears. He proceeded to yank me up by my hair, off my dingy single bed, and threw my already battered body to the mangy carpeted-floor of my small bedroom.

Startled, but now alert, I followed my daily routine of picking myself up and quickly stumbling towards the bathroom across the hall.

Papi, already hurtling towards me, whispered harshly, "What the fuck do you think your doing, dyke?! Where's my reward for waking your stupid ass up for school?"

Internally grimacing at the glint of lust in his eyes, my trembling hands pulled my under wear down while I slid to the ground and whimpered brokenly, "I'm sorry, Papi. Please, I'm sorry."

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I'm Santana Lopez, I'm an seventeen year old outed lesbian nerd, and I'm really fucked up. My life is shitty at school and at home. My Mami died of cancer when I was ten. I miss her smile, her shampoo smell, her deep spanish accent, and most of all her hugs.

My Papi is a man all about religion and reputation, so of course when stupid fucking Finn Hudson, the quarterback at my higschool, thought that his rep would grow (which, unfortunately it did) if he outed my deepest secrect to my school. Now honestly, at the time I wasn't that concerned about the whole school knowing, but the thing is that in Lima, Ohio. Shit like this spreads like wildfire. My Papi finding out his only daughter is gay from a coworker, wasn't really how I imagined it going down.

That's when the verbal and physical abuse started. He would scream and yell profanities until he lost his voice. Living in Lima Heights Adjacent, nobody cared for the screaming. It was heard everywhere in the neighborhood. Usually after every screaming match we had, I would lock myself in my room and use staples to cut fine lines on my arms and legs. The pain helped me to forget.

Later on he would start try to convince me that I'm just confused and would try to feel up. The first time he raped me, I felt so disgusted with myself that I just laid there. I'm worthless.

At school, I was still the lame ass nerd who was now apparently more fucking weird. People would avoid my gaze, push me to the floor, slushy me, call me names. The people who I thought were my friends just stopped interacting with me. I'm all alone.

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**Reviews are welcomed. Let me if you want me to continue. My grammars not the best but at least I tried.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I own nothing but the storyline. Sorry for the grammatical mistakes.**

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"Hey chica, want a little kick to start your mornin'?" Big Black (my usual dealer) asked while suspiciously looking around the vicinity we were standing in. He already had the regular stash of weed I would pick.

"Nahh, not today. Gots me some school bruhh." I replied in my fake ghetto accent.

Disappointed, Bigs put the stash back into the inside pocket of his ratty green zip-up jacket. Bigs stalked off while muttering under his breath about school being for pussies and shitheads. I continued strolling quickly to school.

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I started taking drugs a couple months after being outed, it was a pretty good distraction. I know drugs are bad and the chemicals in drugs will most certainly cause me life long problems, but I already have a lot of problems and if smoking weed and getting high of my ass will suppress my misery, then so be it.

I never smoke weed before school, so my grades never really drop. I always make up work no matter how utterly exhausted I am. Nobody at my high school ever notices the deep, dark circles around my eyes. Nobody notices that I wince when I bend down or sit. I'm glad for that though, it means less drama for me.

My high school, being the only charter school in Lima, has certain advantages. No P.E. Thank god for that, really. It all pertains to the fact that I'm covered in bruises and scars from my Papi's calloused hands. Although, if anyone saw the bruises and cuts, they wouldn't care. I'm just really paranoid about the possibility of being looked at with more disgust.

At Mckinley Charter Highschool, the social pyramid starts with the Lima Losers at the bottom, nerds, the jocks and cheerleaders, and the New Directions Choir Club at the top. The New Directioners, or what I like to call them The Noob Dick Suckers, are the bane of my existence. Although they are not the ones to physically and upfrontly abuse me, I know they get the jocks and Cheerios to do their dirty work or what they like to call 'maintaining order in the facility'.

The supposed leader of said 'Noob Dick Suckers' is the beautiful, blue-eyed goddess, Brittany S. Pierce. One glance at her mischievous but oh-so innocent smile would melt your heart. To bad she's a cruel bitch.

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As I enter the hallways of MCH, a freezing blast of what feels like tiny ice shards and just sheer numbness smash straight into my face, but mostly in my eyes.

"Euugh. Watch it, Lezpez." Speak of the devil. Brittany. The slushy cup in her hand drops to the floor and she stalks off to her her wheelchair-bound boyfriend Artie and her group of followers.

Sighing frustratingly, I try to blindly navigate myself to the girls' bathroom but instead I end up stumble over my own feet and my sodden study books clattered to the ground. I opened my scorched eyes to find the wretched books and clumsily jog towards the restroom, leaving behind the scoffs and laughter behind me.

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After I got most of the slushy out of my clothes, face, and hair; I proceeded quickly to my first class which is Biology. Being already delayed enough, I rush into the room and of fucking course. Brittany S. Pierce and her cult have already cultivated into the room.

Everyone's eyes land on me and the room is filled with giggles and sneers from all over the class. Being so used to this type of treatment, I just simply head towards the nearest empty table and organize my paperwork while Quinn, who is Brittany's right hand girl, throws spitballs at the back of my head. Ican hear Brittany cackling away and high-giving Quinn every time she manages to make me twitch in annoyance.

It's going to be a long fucking week...

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My day is finally over. Thank fuck. But that only means that I have return to the shit-hole of a father. Sigh.

I head out the doors of MCH and start the long trek home when I am being pulled backwards by the handle of my backpack.

I fall to the to the tiled floor with a yelp of surprise. I look up at my assaulter and see the cobalt eyes of a one Brittany Pierce and the hazel ones of Quinn Fabray.

"Where the fuck do you think your going, dyke?" Quinn sneers digustedly while Brittany just stares blankly at my arms.

Hearing those familiar words, my head drops submissively and i just try to block out the sounds, smells, and pain. But there is no pain, except maybe from me digging my nails deep into my thighs. I would have expected Quinn and Brittany to be already kicking shit out of me or something else incredibly cruel, but all I hear are gasps of shock.

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**Cliffhanger because I'm extremely tired and I still have a shitload of homework to finish. Review please.**


	3. Chapter 3

**I do not own anything. Only the storyline. **

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"Where the fuck do you think your going, dyke?" Quinn sneers digustedly while Brittany just stares blankly at my arms.

Hearing those familiar words, my head drops submissively and i just try to block out the sounds, smells, and pain. But there is no pain, except maybe from me digging my nails deep into my thighs. I would have expected Quinn and Brittany to be already kicking shit out of me or something else incredibly cruel, but all I hear are gasps of shock.

The tears I try to keep at bay spill over when I look at their faces. Their eyes are trained on my arms, around my neck, and my stomach. Confused and a little frightened, I look towards myself and see that my baggy ass sweater has ridden up on my arms, stomach and my hoodie had fallen from around my head.

Nononononono shit fuck no! The bruises littering my lower stomach and neck are extremely visible, as well as the self-made, fresh criss-crossing cuts on my arms. Fuck. I'm panicking, shit. What the fuck am i gonna do now?!

"Holy shit." Quinn breathes out while Brittany's eyes just keep widening and her jaw falls open.

Reacting quickly to the sound of Quinn's voice, I jerk upwards and scramble my stuff off the floor as fast I can, and I practically claw myself to the exit of MCH.

I leave the flabbergasted blondes behind and run hard towards home. God I'm such a fucking dumbass. How could I let them look at my atrocious body for that long? Theyre only going to cause more shit for me. Fuck. What the hell am I going to do? Shit. what if they tell someone, like a teacher or some stupid shit like that? Fuuuuuckk.

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After finishing homework.I contemplate the situation I had so stupidly put myself into when I hear someone knocking brashly on the front door of my house. Thinking that there's some retarded dealer trying tomake a buck or two of me.

I yell as I approach the door, "You ain't getting no bills tonight so scram. Right fucking now!"

The banging falters, but then starts again with more vigor. Huffing irritatedly, I shuffle to the door, unlock the lock thingy above the door knob, and peek through the slight visual the chain-lock barely allows. All I see are pale hands wring together and wisps of silky blonde hair swishing in the movements.

Sensing no immediate danger from the stranger, I remove the knob of the chain-lock and lean into the side of the door frame. I pinch the top my nose and release a heavy sigh, "Listen asshat, I told you already I don't buy any shit on a fucking school week. So would kindly fuck right off?" I haughtily spit in my faux Lima Adjacent attitude.

"Uhhm, I-I just w-wanted to give y-you your... Ehh, your Geomotry 101 b-books." My eyes shoot open at the timid but velvety voice. Oh shit. Brittany. My books. I must left them on the hallways earlier.

What the fuck? Had hell frozen over or something? Cause I would have never expected her ever even think about the idea of helping me in some way. Is this some cruel joke?

"Well, Uhh. You could either keep gawking at me like a fish out of water or you could thank me for my chivalry," she quips in her usual cocky manner, seemingly recovered from the shock of me talking so rudely at her.

I internally scoff at her confidence and roll my eyes hidden from her gaze. "Yeah, thanks."

I take the books from her hands and move to close the door in her face but she slaps her palm out onto the door to stop my motions. I stare at her in shock and trepidation. Oh no. Shit she's going to confront me on my bruises and jacked up arms. Fuck. She opens her mouth to speak but before she can utter a single word, my father's voice laced in false kindness rings in the air, "Santana, who is your friend?"

"Nobody, just a girl from school." I swiftly reply. I glance at Brittany's seemingly hurt eyes and back to the wooden floors of the house's porch. "She was just leaving, right?" I plead at Brittany with my eyes to agree with me.

"Right. Umm, I'll see you at school." She murmurs in parting. She stares at me with worry and knowing sadness in her eyes, then gracefully glides down the three worn stairs of the porch. Christ, she is really baffling me. Papi plasters a smile at her when she passes him and she just squints her eyes slightly and nods in acknowledgement.

When she leaves both me and Papi's sight in the distance, Papi digs his hands onto my hips and pushes me inside the house. He locks the door and growls at me too head to my room and wait there for a little present.

Already knowing what type of present he means, I do as he says and began my mental shutdown to prepare for a long night. Strangely, all I think of is the brightness of Brittany's eyes and how different they were a moment ago compared to how cold and harsh they are when she would glare at me in school. I stop myself there not wanting to associate any part of her to what pain and suffering I feel when Papi pounds into me. When he rakes his nails down my sides, when he bites on my breasts, and whispers into my ear how good I am, how tight, and when he whispers how he's doing this for my own sake.

I want to scream in anguish. I want to fight back. I want him to know how wrong he is. I want someone to save me from all this fucking shit. But when he reminds of how utterly worthless I am, how I'll grow to be a no good slut, when he reminds me that nobody cares and that nobody will ever want to be my savior, that's when I agree and let him 'help' me feel loved. Deep down I know he's wrong and that as soon as I'm old enough I'll try my damn hardest to get out of lima, but I just do not want to fight within myself about it.

When he's finished, he kisses me on my forehead and whispers, "You'll always be daddy's little girl. Goodnight sweetheart." he leaves me to clean up and prepare for bed. I clean my recently ravaged body and crawl into bed, clothed in underwear, and whimper in painevery time I jostle myself to roughly. For the first time in months icry quietly.

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In the morning, Papi barged into my room for his 'reward' of a blowjob. After that I just grabbed my razors and made intricate lines on the undersides of my thighs, on the sides of my stomach and on back of mycalves.

The stinging pain made everytime i take a step down the halls of MCH reminds me of Papi's harsh but true words. Step-Worthless. Step-Slut. Step-Dyke. Step-Disgusting. I'm pulled out of my reverie when someone sticks there foot out in front of my feet and i fall to the ground.

I glance up to see that Artie and Finn looming over me and shouting the word Dyke in repition till everyone in the hall is chanting at the top of their lungs. Teachers and faculty members pass by me but make no move to help me up or stop the raucous teenagers, instead the look at me with disgust and move along their merry-fucking-way.

Wincing and flinching with every movement I make to stand up, I stare around the halls and see everyone pointing and laughing their asses off like they just saw the most funniest thing ever to fucking happen. Everyone, with the exception of Brittany S. Pierce Quinn Fucking Fabray. Their just staring blankly at me, looking over my body as if they had x-fucking-ray vision to see the new bruises and cuts on my battered flesh.

Not emotionally strong enough to handle their probing, I stumble weakly to the farthest corner of the library behind the school administration office. I clutch my knees to my chest and bury my hoodie-covered head in my arms as silent tears leak down my face.

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The following days consisted of the same abuse at home and the same abuse at school. Teenagers playing harsh pranks and Papi brutally hurting me emotionally and physically. The strangest thing keeps happening though, Brittany and Quinn don't look at me with the same look they usually had in their eyes. Sure they giggle along with everyone and help with slushying me, but I've come tonotice that the look remorseful afterwards. Brittany especially. Whatever it doesn't matter.

Im sure they'll go back to being their cruel shells in a few weeks. Just watch. They won't save me. She won't save me. I fucking know that. I'm tomuch of a pitiless creature to be Saved. But that won't stop me from having a glimmer of hope.

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**Well, there ya' go. Typed this up while I did homework today, turns out I'm a good multitasker. Sorry for any grammatical mistakes. Reviews, requests, critiscm, and comments are welcomed.**


	4. Chapter 4

**I do not own anything except the storyline.**

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"Move it, Faggoty Anne," Finn nastily spat straight into my face before shoving me to the side. His ass-kissing friends then proceeded to sling the contents of their slushy cups all over me and my lunch tray. Cackling like hyenas and fist bumping each other, the herd of morons stalked off to the "Popular Kids" table.

Doesn't matter, I wasn't going to eat this shitty school gruel any-fucking-way. I throw away the soiled food and proceeded to the restroom to clean the sludge off my sweater.

I broke one of my major rules today and smoked weed before school. Yeah, I know I know. Stupid fucking Santana, at it again. I didn't really have the best wake up call, as per usual, and I couldn't find any of my goddamn razors. Which means I have to go out and buy some after school with the cash I make selling left over weed, the thing is is that I really needed a fix of some sort so I just took a couple hits to chill out a little. Sorry, I'm rambling. Mmm, the slushy kinda tastes good when it's in my mouth and not sliding down from my teared-up eyes.

As I enter the bathroom the first thing I notice is I'm not alone. Brittany leaning on one of the stalls wearing faded blue denim shorts, rainbow suspenders, and the most luckiest tank-top in the world, while Quinn stood there in her 'innocent girl' white sundress. Jesus. Imma faint. Wait what? Why am I thinking this thoughts? I'm mean I know I'm gay but I didn't think I would ever get a lady-boner for Brittany. Quinn's cute but the 'virgin girl' act really contradicts her true nature. Total turn off. Brittany's tank top is really letting my imagination run wild. Whoa. I just got a lady-boner again. Seriously, what's wrong with me today? Must be the weed.

The blondes notice me and immediately snicker at my predicament. Seeeee. I told ya' they'd be bitches again. Oh well. I head to the sink farthest from them and start wetting paper towels to use for my slushy-covered front. I hear them giggling and I can basically feel Brittany preparing to make a snide comment. But before she can, my backpack that I placed on the counter next to me clatters to the ground. I mentally thanked every deity that made the stupid sack fall, because right now I really can't deal with her bullshit.

"Aha, dumb bitch isn't even capable of hand-eye-coordination," Brittany says while rolling her eyes at me. My thankfulness now abandoned and replaced with embarrassment.

I look to the ground and frown at the fucking thing. Cuntfaced sack, embarrassing me like this. How dare you. Wait, did I say that out loud? Well, considering the confused faces of Quinn and Brittany... I must have. Oh god can I go die in a hole? Please? No? Okay.

"I think she's high, Britt Britt." I hear Quinn mutter to Brittany. No shit Sherlock.

"What the fuck did you just say, you fucking taco-licker?" Quinn says looking incredulously at me. Oh fuck, I said that out loud again. See this is why you don't smoke weed before school.

With new found confidence that the Ganja provided me, I scoffed lightly and said, "Wow blondie #1, you've offended both my ethnicity and my sexual-orientation in one fucking word. I applaud you." I added I a little clap at the end of my short but proud filled rant. Quinn's jaw dropped to the floor while Brittany just smirked viciously in my direction.

Goddamn it, Santana. Look at what your dumb ass did. They're going to fucking kill me. SHITSHITSHIT. Why is Brittany biting her lip and looking at me like she's hungry? Fuck. That's so hot but I know that face only means she's thinking up some sort of revenge on my ass. I quickly finish wiping the almost forgotten slushy off me and walk as unclumsily as I can out the restroom.

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The rest of my school time consisted of me hiding in the library and skipping classes till the last ten minutes so I could get the homework agendas. The teachers' either didn't notice me or didn't acknowledge me. Well, whatevs.

In the library, I finish at least over my assignments and homework so I don't have much to deal with at home. If don't finishhome before my father comes home from drinking at the bar or working, then he would usually just crumple the papers and throw them in trash bin. After he 'straightens' me out, I have go redo the papers on separate sheets of paper that I pick up free from the hardware store a couple blocks from my house.

The whole ordeal in the restroom sobered me somewhat. I'm so fucking pissed at myself right now. How could I even allow myself to retort Quinn? Why the fuck did Brittanjust are at me like that? Jesus. I'm probably just overreacting. They'll just slushy me or pull some kind of prank. God, what was I thinking?! I was practically asking for trouble!

Stupid. Dumbass. Clueless little asshat. Sigh... I hear the bell ring signifying the end of school has arrived and that another torturous day is finally over. I gather my half-finished paperwork and head out the library, passing the administration office.

As I walk by I hear voices talking and I hear my name being said. Curious to what they were saying about me, I leaned on a corner of the office building,which effectively hid me, and listened in on what they were saying. Surprisingly enough it was only Brittany and Quinn standing and talking on the other side._  
_

"I don't know, Quinn. There has to be something going on in her home. Did you see the look in her eyes when she realized what we saw on the first day of school? It fucking chilled me to the bone."

"I know, B. But we shouldn't get involved in Santana's personal problems. I mean, if we did and somebody found out we were actually associating ourselves with Lezpez The Lima Nerd, everybody would shun us and treat us like shit."

"You mean how everyone treats her like? Really Quinn? That's what you're concerned about? I didn't think you would stoop so low." I hear Brittany huff and scuffle her Vans on the pavement.

"Oh shutup, B. I'm only looking out for you and me," Quinn retorts, "You saw those cuts the dyke probably put on her self. She's fucking mental!"

"Yeah, I fucking saw them. Why the fuck do you think she does it, huh? Just for fun? There has to be a reason, Lucy."

"Why are you so concerned about the faggot anyway? She's fucking disgusting, really. She practically drooled on you today... I swear I was gunna hurl all over her. Ughh."

"I-I don't know, Q. Maybe we should tell somebody." Brittany suggests and I jump into action, stumble towards the startled blondes, and open my mouth to speak.

"No. Please, don't say anything to anyone. Please, I-I'll do whatever you ask just do n-not tell anybody." I plead with a growing lump in my throat. I stare into brittany's eyes and hope to god she goes back to not even caring about me or my situation.

"Look, I can get you money or drugs or whatever the fuck you want just do NOT say anything to anyone." My voice is panicky and I'm panting so hard.

Quinn looks at me with newfound interest at my words, while Brittany just gapes at me with eyebrows raised to her hairline. Quinn opens her mouth to speakbut Brittany beats her to it, "Why can't we tell anyone? You need help." Brittany's eyes probe mine and her hands pull my armsleeves up but I push her hands away and scoff.

"Why? So they can put me on meds and put me in a foster home? No. I don't fucking think so. Why should you care anyway. You guys are probably glad that even I know how worthless I am. Get off your high fucking horse and butt out of my business. I didn't ask for you to be so concerned and I certainly do not want to your reputations ruined by me being seen talking to you cruel bitches." I snarl and run off, not looking where I'm going.

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It's midnight now and I'm at a secluded park I stumbled upon. It has a beautiful little pond that has a little family of ducks. It reminds me of how there are still some good things in the world. Just not in my world.

I'm so tired. Mentally, physically, emotionally. All my problems are grating into my soul. If I even have one. I just want go to sleep and never have to wake up to to all this fuckery. I want to end it all. I have to. It's just so much to bear. I can't handle it all anymore.

Reaching my descion, I pull out newly bought razors from my satchel and begin cutting deep into wrist. It's amazing. All the swirling red, the fading glimmer on the pond, the faint sounds of ducks quacking. Wait. What's that standing over me? Why is it yelling? Brittany? What is she doing here? Shhh. Your going to disturb the ducks. Shh-.

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**Sorry for any grammatical mistakes. I need some constructive critiscm. Please review.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry for the delay. It's been a hectic few days and I couldn't find the time to quickly type up a chapter.** **I do not own anything, except for the storyline.**

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**Brittany 2nd Person POV:**

She's just lying there limply against a withered tree. Lying there and bleeding out. Your panicking when you should be calling out for help. You can practically feel her fading into eternal darkness. Her head shifts slightly and you notice that she's smiling. It's the first time you've ever smile so freely and you can't help but think her smile is honestly the most beautiful thing in the world.

Your stuck in a trance between giddiness of having the privelige of seeing her smile and the mortification of seeing her precious smile fall and her body sinking further into the ground. Her movements breaks your stupor and you remember the reason why her body is slumping. You jump into action, you run towards her, fall into a crouch over her, and cradle her head.

Your are trembling and you barely noticed that you've got a cellphone in your right hand (while your left hand tries to press into the deep cuts on both her wrists) until your stuttering off the address of the park you and Santana are in at the person on the other side of the phone call.

Dropping the cellphone onto the grass, not caring enough to hang up, you look into her hooded caramel eyes. You see slight recognition flash in them and she opens her mouth to speak but only a clipped breath is emitted. You realize at that very moment that tears are streaming down your face, hands are firmly placed on top of the seeping cuts, you hear sirens in the distance, and your screaming at the top of your lungs, "Don't you fucking die on me now, Santana Lopez! You hear me?! Please don't leave me!"

She struggles her right hand against yours for a moment and you look down to see her pointer finger extended. Confused, you look back at her face. Her lips are slightly puckered and she makes a faint shushing noise, attempting to quiet you down. You shake your head frantically and her eyes fall shut. Her chest barely moves but you know she's still breathing. Seeing her body slump even further to the ground, you press your soakened palms deeper into her wrists. You repeat mantra of no's and cry even hard than before.

People and noises are surrounding you, trying pull you off her in order to get her into an ambulance that you didn't notice arrive. Reluctantly, you peel yourself off her and the paramedics push you out of the way and swiftly wrap bandages around her wrists. They lift her onto a stretcher and race her to the ambulance. Without even being asked, you slip in behind them. You sit there, staring at them work on closing up the slashes.

A female paramedic, who's not busy with dealing with Santana, asks you questions in a soft tone of voice. You answer every question halfheartedly, all the while transfixed on Santana's form lying across from you. Mistaking your glazed eyes for you being in state of shock and not for being pure worry over Santana, the paramedic tries to distract you by trying to make commentary on little things you could give less of a shit about at that moment, and you tell her that. Silenced by your forward ness, she goes back to doing whatever.

You feel the urge to throw up, to just break down. But you need to be strong. What if she doesn't make it? What if your the last person she ever talked to? No. You won't, can't, let that happen. You think of all times you've set her up, many times you've seen her not retaliate. You wanted her to fight back whenever you and your crew bashed her verbally and physically, so you wouldn't feel so horrible afterwards. Now seeing Santana like this makes all bullying seem pointless.

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**3rd Person POV: **

The first thing Santana notices when she comes into consciousness is that there's a warm waft of vanilla and cinnamon scented around her. Confused as to where she was, Santana's eyes shot open but were immediately clenched shut from the brightness of the room.

She becomes aware of a warm weight lying against her right upper arm. Slowly creeping her eyes open, Santana looks down and sees long, wavy blonde hair draped over her bicep and chest. The person has their arms crossed under their head, which currently faces towards Santana's thighs.

Unsure of what exactly is going on, Santana clears her throat loudly and winces when it comes out strangled due to the dryness in her throat, but it's enough to wake the slightly familiar form up. The blonde abruptly sits up with a gasp and looks towards Santana with eyes filling immediately with tears.

Seeing that it is Brittany who was asleep on her arm, Santana's eyes widen and she goes to speak, but is interrupted with a pair of soft, warm, trembling lips fiercely forced upon her own. Suprised, Santana stays rigid against the dancing lips moving against her own, her eyes slam shut and she slowly melts into the kiss and feels shaking hands go around her neck to pull her in deeper into the kiss. Santana feels butterflies erupt in her stomach and a warm fire is ignited in her whole body.

All too soon Brittany pulls back from Santana's lips and buries her face into Santana's neck, sobbing uncontrollably. Dazed, Santana hands stroke Brittany's back and makes shushing noises, which only make Brittany cry harder.

Brittany yanks herself backwards and fully slaps Santana in the face. Santana's shocked eyes stare at Brittany and Brittany just goes back to sobbing and kissing Santana at the same time. _What the actual fuck is happening right now?, _Santana thinks to herself.

Not knowing what to do, Santana just lets Brittany continue kissing her. Not that she minds, but when the girl who had bullied you for a good two years is suddenly attacks you with kisses, it makes you wonder and maybe a little speechless, ya' know?

When Brittany had calmed down a bit with her crying, she's only softly pecking at Santana's lips and clutching at the hospital gown Santana is wearing. _Wait? Hospital gown? Where the fuck am I?_

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**I played around a bit with the POV's, let me know if you guys would like to see more of that type of style and\or which style you wish to see more of. I think I did decently enough with my grammar. I wanted to make this chapter longer, but I came up with a new story idea so I'm going to have stall slightly on this story. Slightly. Anyway review and give me some critiscm, I demand more critics!**

** Ciao For Now.**

**(PS. I'm going to use that as an ending to every chapter.)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Between juggling time for my love interest, school and preventing my overly religious flipino parents from finding out about my sapphic escapades, I haven't really been able to make quick updates. For that I sincerely apologize. Plus I'm in the process of typing up a new story. I do not own anything.**

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Brittany yanks herself backwards and fully slaps Santana in the face. Santana's shocked eyes stare at Brittany and Brittany just goes back to sobbing and kissing Santana at the same time. _What the actual fuck is happening right now?, _Santana thinks to herself.

Not knowing what to do, Santana just lets Brittany continue kissing her. Not that she minds, but when the girl who had bullied you for a good two years is suddenly attacks you with kisses, it makes you wonder and maybe a little speechless, ya' know?

When Brittany had calmed down a bit with her crying, she's only softly pecking at Santana's lips and clutching at the hospital gown Santana is wearing. _Wait? Hospital gown? Where the fuck am I?_

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**Brittany 2nd Person POV:**

You couldn't help it, honestly. The moment her clouded eyes locked onto yours, it felt like the world was right again, that everything would be okay becuase she's awake and alive. You've never felt so relieved before.

Santana opens her mouth to speak but you need to do something before whatever words she may say takes away the opportunity hanging right in front of both of your faces. You rush forward and force your lips against her puffy ones. You notice that after a moment of rigidness on Santana's part, she slowly kisses back. Her lips comfort you and frighten you at the same time. It's so confusing. All you know is that at this very moment, this kiss is exactly what you need.

You can't help but notice that her lips are slightly bruised from what you can only assume came from her father. It makes you so angry and sad all at the same time. Who else would have given her those bruises and lacerations? It breaks your heart imagining how Santana would feels after being used in such a way. Thinking of such heart aching thoughts makes you pull away from her lips, you just want to hold her safe in your arms.

You start to sob uncontrollably as you pull back from the kiss. You bury your face into her scarred neck, her scent of musky woods and grass from the park lingers in your nose and you start trembling with every breath taken in. Her neck glistens slightly from your shed tears.

You can feel her confusion and you expect her to push you off her at first, (like you would let her make you go away, what with the ordeal you went through. Yeah, right.) but instead she reaches around your waist and strokes your back. The action comforts you until she starts shushing you gently. The noise reminds you of finding her fading body and how she tried to quiet you when you were screaming at her to not leave you to your misery.

Thinking about Santana purposely hurting herself angers you. How dare Santana to try and kill herself, leaving to your own demise? How dare she try do that herself, to you? If you hadn't of been at the park, she might be dead right now.

Your anger takes over you actions, you yank yourself back from Santana's comforting embrace and full-on slap her in the face. She stares at you with widened, shocked eyes. You crumble back into her arms, with tears running down your face. You re-attach your lips to her slightly rigid ones with a sense of urgency. You know she's probably wondering what the fuck is going on, but you could careless because all that matters is that she's alive.

You calm down and just softly peck at her slightly swollen lips now, your hands clutch at her crisp hospital gown. Then you remember where you both are. You've been so caught up with your emotions that you didn't notice her wincing when she stroked your back to comfort you. Her bandaged wrists are still resting on your waist and you gingerly pull them to Santana's front.

You look up at Santana sheepishly. Her eyes are slightly unfocused as they wander about the room in confusion. You can't help but think the way she scrunched her nose and furrowed her brows in concentration is absolutely adorable, but when her caramel brown eyes land on your blue ones when you giggle at the image, your moment of giddiness fades at the intensity of her stare.

Santana narrows her eyes at the realization of where she is, why and with whom. Her jaw sets tightly, she clenches her eyes shut tightly and she bows her head in shame. You hear her mutter unintelligible things and your confused as to why she is acting so different as to the way she acting before. Then you're hit with a realization of your own.

"Leave. Please." Her voice weak and breathy.

She avoids your gaze and you notice her hands shake slightly, small droplets of tears landing onto her hospital gown. Your heart physically and emotionally hurts from the self-reproach that airs around Santana's weak form.

You shake your head no at her command of you and gently pull her into your arms to comfort her this time. She shakes with silent sobs and she tries to push you away, but you just tighten your arms around her. You sidle up on to the side of the hospital bed and turn your face into her hair. You rock both her and you back and forth until her shaking had subsided and all that can be heard is her sniffles.

"I don't think I could leave even if I wanted to," you whisper into her ear, "I need you to be safe and can only be assured of that prospect by being by your side."

You feel her shudder and immediately assume that she's cold so you bring the thin hospital bed sheet up and around both of you. She subconsciously curls up into your arms and you hear her breathing evening out, signifying that she had fallen asleep.

The parts of Santana's face and neck that are exposed are littered in tiny scars that you wouldn't be able to see unless you looked hard enough. You shift a little so that the blanket uncovers from her arms slightly, you make sure her wrists are tucked loosely between both of your chests, you spend a minute or two just tracing along the healed scars across her arms.

Tears fill your eyes when you imagine Santana sitting somewhere, just tearing into her arms with a razor blade after being bullied by yourself or after being defiled by her own fucking father. Choking back a sob, you concentrate on her heart-shaped face.

Even in her sleep, her brows are pinched in worry, her lips curved down in a slight frown. It's saddeningly beautiful. You're struck by the urge to run your fingers through her hair and you do so. The minute your fingertips graze her scalp, Santana's face relaxes and you could practically feel the contentment flow through her. The several minutes of you stroking her thick, wavy, brown hair pulled you into a deep sleep of your own.

* * *

You wake up startled, something doesn't feel right. No, it feels really, really fucking bad. You feel... Incomplete. Wait, Santana. Where is she?! You look around the room, frantically searching for a trace of her.

The clothes Santana was wearing at the park, that were folded on one of the hospital chairs, were gone. What if her dad came to get her? No. Then why would you be left on the bed without being awoken by them? Maybe Santana went out for a stroll? No. Why the fuck would she go out for a fucking stroll? The realization that Santana had ran away leaves you in angry, bitter tears.

"Goddamn it, Santana." You shake your head in disappointment and fear. You're disappointed because the kisses that transpired earlier were an indication that you wanted to be with her.

Maybe she ran away to avoid you. Possibly. Maybe she didn't have the heart to reject your advances face-to-face. You should probably feel great full then. She gave you a way out of this fucked up situation. But, you don't want to. You need her. If Santana doesn't want to be your lover then you'll be her friend. You just need her in your life, some way some how.

You head out of the hospital room with determination etched on your face. You're going to find Santana Lopez and you're going to help her.

* * *

**3rd Person** **POV:**

Santana wakes up slowly. There's no rush because she feels completely and utterly safe, like nothing can hurt her, not even her father. She feels warm and protected, so comfroting.

Santana hums contentedly and shifted her position on the bed, so that she was lying on her stomach. Her eyes shot open when she felt a warm hand twitch against her stomach. Oh shit. Brittany.

Santana turned her head and became face-to-face to the sleeping beauty. A strand of silky blonde hair dangled across Brittany's face and Santana took it into fingers, captivated with her stunning beauty. Brittany's nose twitched when Santana put the strand behind her ear, Brittany's arms tightened around Santana's torso and she snuggled her face against Santana's neck.

Her movement broke Santana from her stupor, Santana looked at the limbs circled around her stomach and was immediately hit with a wave of a feeling she couldn't even begin to describe. She felt like no matter what would happen, she would cherish this single moment with the girl that had caused her pain throughout her previous and current highschool years. Her heart raced, her stomach fluttered with butterflies and the look in her eyes could only be described as extreme adoration.

Realizing that Brittany probably wouldn't appreciate being leered upon, even in her sleep, Santana averted her gaze and lifted the arms around and away from herself. She slipped out of the hospital bed and stood on shaky feet. There was no I.V. attached to Santana's arm, so she had no worries of alerting a nurse if she had pulled out one.

She spotted her hoodie and sweatpants folded neatly on a chair by her side. She scrambled as quickly and quietly as she could, on unsteady legs, to get the clothes on. She stood there, dressed, for a moment, just staring at Brittany's face.

Santana knew what she had to do. She didn't like it, but if she wanted to survive in a harsh world, she needed to just move on and out. Santana bent down a gave a feathered kiss down upon Brittany's brow, and headed out of the hospital unnoticed.

Santana didn't know where she was going, but she sure as hell isn't going to stay in Lima.

* * *

**So here you have it. So sorry for the delay. Comments? Critiscm? Requests? Advice? Whatever? **

**Ciao For Now.**


	7. Chapter 7

**I do not own anything.**

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**3rd Person POV:**

Santana was currently sitting on a bus headed straight for New York. Previously, she had ran home to loot any cash she could find. Her plan was to go to Manhattan, find a job as waitress or wherever that doesn't involve any kind of foulness, probably live in some shelter for a while then eventually work herself up into an apartment. Her plan was fool proof, for now.

She was going where nothing could hurt her. Not her dad, not the kids at school, not even herself. Santana was going start fresh with nothing hanging over her head. She was going to be free.

Santana thought about the past few days, how worse things were getting at home, how Brittany had been treating her, how soft Brittany's lips were, how sad Brittany looked at the hospital, and how much of a pathetic coward she was for trying to take her own life. Santana realized that by trying to kill herself was extremely stupid and unfair becuase she was letting the haters win. She just needs to get away...

The bus started up, jolting her from her thoughts. They bus driver called out at the passengers who were inside the bus to get comfy for a long ride. Santana looked out the window she was sat next to, the bus began moving and next thing she knew was that someone had taken the seat next to her and was staring at her unabashedly.

The familiar scent of of warm vanilla and cinnamon drifted around the person, causing Santana to stiffen. Santana kept her face looking out the window, while the person kept staring at her.

Slender fingers reached out and began caressing tan ones, Santana shivered at the touch and her stomach was fluttering maddeningly, but she kept facing away the person. A sniffle sounded beside her, tugging at her heart strings. The pale hand were now tangled in her own and the other pale hanto reached up and tilted her head to face the other person, but she kept her gaze down towards their entwined hands.

"Why?" The word was whispered through sniffles and anguish. Santana shifted her gaze to Brittany's swimming blue eyes, "Why are you leaving?"

Hit by a sudden wave of unrational anger, Santana yanks her hand out of Brittany's and her caramel eyes swim with her own unshed tears.

"Do I really need to give you a goddamn reason, Brittany? You should know full fucking well. I'm pretty sure you've figured out that my dad is a sick fuck, I hate myself with a passion because I'm too much of a coward that I would actually try to kill myself, I was fucking outed by some idiot footballer who probably doesn't know left from right, everyone in Lima are all a bunch of close-minded, inbred hicks, and to top it all off, I think I'm in love with the girl who had been the number one person to bully me for the past few years!" Santana whispered back harshly, "Everything in my life just so fucked up."

Brittany, who had been wincing from guilt and had silent tears stream down her face with every word Santana had said, gaped at Santana because of the last few words she had said. Santana realizes what she had said and dropped her head in embarrassment and slight fear of what Brittany would do.

"Y-you're...in love? With me?" Brittany asks incredulously, "But... At the hospital... I thought you left because you didn't want to reject me face-to-face."

"Yeah, well, not everything is completely about you, Britt." Santana mutters. Brittany's heart flutters at the nickname.

Remembering that she was on bus that was headed for New York, Santana widened her eyes at the fact the Brittany was sitting next to her.

"You do know that this bus is headed for New York, right?"

"Yeah. Uhm. I had a plan that consisted of trying to convince you to stay in Lima."

"Oh really? Well, how do you think that's going to work out, hmm? Becuase I literally just stated some really plausible facts asreasons why I shouldn't stay."

Brittany became silent. Her blue eyes still shimmered from shed tears and she kept wringing her hands. Santana, still expecting Brittany to lash out at her for declaring her love for blonde girl, tried as much as possible to keep her body from brushing against Brittany. Her whole side was curled into the window side of the bus seat.

Santana was confused as well. Why does Brittany want Santana to stay in this shithole of a pla Does she want to keep her as a figurative and maybe literal punching bag? But if she did, why did she kiss Santana at the hospital? Speaking of which, why would Brittany even bring Santana to the hospital. Santana would have expected Brittany just pass her bleeding body by, that would have made more sense.

Sensing the other girl's inner turmoil, Brittany sighed knowing that she was fighting a losing battle. What Santana had vented to her made her want to help the broken girl even more, but she knew that not even her helping would suffice.

Having Santana admit her love though, that really took her by surprise. She would have expected... Well, anything besides that. Still, it made her stomach and heart explode in flutters. But with everything else in Santana and Brittany's life... The situation is just really fucked up.

Brittany knew that whatever Santana had planned for herself would be better for everyone, so she leaned towards the apprehensive girl, gave her a light kiss on the cheek got up and left the bus.

* * *

**This chapter was kinda all over the place, sorry. I'm tired and I have a lot of plans going on the rest of the week so I just quickly typed this up. I apologize if you think it's crappy. Happy Thanksgiving!**


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